Where Mineral Town Ends
by ledisko21
Summary: One hundred drabbles on the one hundred memories of a quiet chicken farmer. My take on HarvestMoonAddict/Regardless1604's "100 Theme Challenge."
1. Introduction

"Mama?"

His whispers couldn't wake her because her hopes of peaceful sleep ambled out the door with him last winter. But she found console in being wanted- needed by the children he had left her. So she always ignored their first pleas, indulging in what little love she had left.

"Mama?" he whispered again, this time shaking her frantically.

"Mmm…What is it sweetheart?" She kept her eyes closed, continuing the charade.

"I can't sleep." He never could on nights when the snow fell inaudibly.

She patted the bed and he crawled within. He was always as cold as his father.

* * *

**...Well of course I had to do this challenge on Mineral Town's Rick. He is my favorite character from the series forever. Plus I need something to challenge me now that summer classes are out. I hope you guys enjoy my take on the "100 Theme Challenge" and I will try to keep it regularly updated! **


	2. River

"Where do you think the river ends?" His father asked, crouching down besides the boy on its shore. He had no concept of geography; Mineral Town was his entire world.

"Where Mineral Town ends." The strawberry blonde answered, so sure he was correct. His answer evoked a hearty laugh from his father.

"Not quite my son. But this much is true. At the end of this river, there is a cure for your mother. At the end of this river is hope."

Sometimes the strawberry blonde would return to the river bank as an adult, recalling the river's false promises.


	3. Farm

"They say at midnight you can see his ghost still plowing away the fields." The little girl murmured from beneath the bushes they hid within.

"You're a big fat liar Karen." The grumpy blonde interjected, crossing his arms irritably.

"Well we'll find out in two minutes, won't we Grey?" The girl hissed back. The strawberry blonde sat in silence, watching the field intently. He wanted Karen to be wrong, feeling sorry for the restless soul.

When ten minutes had passed midnight, the children walked home in disappointment. But the boy swore he heard the familiar sound of a tilling plow.


	4. Warmth

"Baby, do you know why the sun sets and the moon rises?" His mother cooed at his four year old sister. She was so perfect, the boy thought. So perfectly adolescent, protected by her innocence.

"Why mama?"

"Because the sun loves the moon so much, he dies every night to let her breathe." The boy answered in place of his mother. "He surrenders his warmth so he can watch her illuminate the skies."

The little girl frowned unsatisfied. "If the sun really loved the moon, wouldn't he find a way for them to be together?" Maybe she wasn't so innocent.


	5. Clouds

He started losing his vision within the third grade. Words blurred together in an endless sea of sentences. The boy would withdraw into his desk, begging silently that the teacher wouldn't call on him to read. Children were unforgiving and his mistakes were only met by hushed snickers.

His world silently collapsed the day he was fitted for glasses. He silently sulked as he walked home with his mother, imagining the creative names his classmates would conjure.

"You just have clouds in your eyes darling." His mother squeezed his hand. "And what kind of sky doesn't have a few clouds?"


	6. Bells

The church bells always chimed dimly as the townspeople gathered for mass every Sunday.

"They serve as a reminder of our echoing sins my people." Carter preached so softly that the boy had to lean forward to hear. "May we take a moment of silence to repent our sins to the Harvest Goddess." Instead, the strawberry blonde would bury his head in his hands and pray for selfish things.

"Make everyone stop picking on me."

"Heal my mama back to health."

"Bring my father home safely."

The bells never made the boy feel guilty like the rest of the town.


	7. Love

They were primitive creatures to most. A food source desired for their eggs and flesh. A distant thought at the super market as a living and breathing being, but instead just another package on the shelf. But to the boy they were Bella, Jenny, and Helen. Each chicken had a different cry; a different pattern in their feathers. With the sun he rose to tend to his backyard birds. And although he didn't enjoy waking at these early hours, he realized that sometimes love meant doing things you didn't want to for others.

Plus his weekly allowance counted on it.


	8. Cold

Their faces stared up at the ceiling; they talked through their finger tips.

She'll be ok. She'll be ok. She'll be ok.

Are you sure? How are you sure? Promise me you're sure.

He would squeeze his sister's hand, three times for good luck. She would squeeze back, three times for good luck. This was their ritual every time their mother was admitted back into the hospital. Sasha would call them to bed but she knew the pair could not be moved. And when the fire went out and the floorboards grew cold, they continued to lay there in darkness.


	9. Coffee

"Can I try it?" He asked his father every morning, usually receiving a chuckle in response.

"Not today. You won't like it." Today however was different. Today his father was leaving.

"Can I try it?" The boy asked, playing out their morning routine for the last time. He stared longingly into the mug, craving the brown liquid within. The father thought silently for a moment before he pushed the mug towards his son.

Without hesitation the boy chugged back the drink only to choke it up. Whenever he thought of his father's departure afterwards, he tasted dirt in his mouth.


	10. Gift

"Your father wanted you to have this on your thirteenth birthday." He knew his mother was trying her best to hold back tears. He couldn't tell whether they were happy or sad ones. Quietly she passed the leather box over to her eager son. He lifted the top slowly to reveal a shiny, antique watch.

"He said that every man needs one." The tears were now staining her pretty white apron. As the boy latched the watch onto his wrist, he realized that he was no longer a boy. And that he had not been one since his father left.


	11. Fire

Rise fall. Rise fall. Each crumpled word gave breath to destruction.

He was only fourteen. His mother and sister were visiting the clinic.

The hand writing was still the same. The loops curved dramatically, the dashes struck viciously.

"I will not be coming home. You will not see me again…"

Rise fall. Rise fall. Each crumpled word fed the brutal fire.

They would never know. Although he was crushed he would not crush his family's hope. That was what the man did. They protected the family.

His wrist watch felt heavier from that day on then it ever had before.


	12. Marriage

"I don't think I'll ever get married Rick." Karen declared as she took another swig from the bottle of wine before passing it his way. He didn't care for the alcohol much. It made him feel fuzzy, like the clouds in his eyes wouldn't go away. But it took away some of the weight his watch forever burdened him with. He plugged his nose and gulped back the wine, warm from hiding beneath Karen's bed.

"Where do you get this stuff anyways Karen?"

"It's….Don't worry about it." She blushed. He knew from her answer that her previous statement was false.


	13. Death

He couldn't help but wonder when he saw the frailness return to his mother's face, leaving her weak and colorless. He couldn't help but wonder if there was a heaven or hell to which our souls would depart to after our bodies grew ceaseless. He couldn't help but wonder if there were angels and demons toying with the lives of past and future generations. He couldn't help but wonder if she'd remember them when she was gone and watch over them from above.

All these things he sometimes wondered while feeding the chickens. But most times he thought about Karen.


End file.
